What's Your Story?
by aniemoses
Summary: after having a not so great couple of weeks the reader finds their way to The Milano a dive bar in NYC where they meet the owner Peter Quill (this is an xreader story)
1. Chapter 1

You were having a terrible day. Well, maybe more accurately, days _plural._ You were up for a promotion at work, you were currently an editor at an online news website, but your so called "_in the bag"_ promotion your boss had promised was instead handed to some new guy they hired. You were bitter because you gave this job 3 whole years of your life and this was the thanks you got.

Another thing, your boyfriend of a year dumped you a couple of weeks ago because he got a job offer overseas and didn't think you'd want to go with him, not that he asked. He also didn't want to do a long distance relationship because he just _wasn't feeling it_. So now he's dead to you.

The list of tiny annoying day to day things just kept piling on your shoulders. Like someone taking your coffee order and having to pay for a new coffee because the barista didn't believe you. Having your cab taken 4 separate times by 4 different people. Being sent an email by your boss asking why you weren't in a meeting that you clearly were and participated in. Having your lunch being stolen from fridge in the break room and never getting your lunch bag back. Having to _buy_ a new lunch bag.

With everything piling up things just became too much. That's why you texted your best friend, Natasha Romanoff, to meet up for some drink at a bar near your apartment. She agreed and you headed out to make your way there. Your sour mood prompted you to walk and the fact that the bar you were heading to, _The Milano_, was only a couple blocks away.

You made it to the bar and headed in. It was a friday night so you were a little surprised to see that the place wasn't too terribly packed. Though you had to admit this place was a little run down and the people that were there looked a little sketchy. This is New York after all so who were you to judge.

You headed up to the bar and took a seat at it. You pulled out your phone while you waited for the bartender to finish up the customer he was already with and to check and see if Natasha had sent you an update.

She had.

Not a good one.

_Work called have to bail. I'm so sorry you know I'd be there if it weren't important. xx_

Frowning at your phone you hadn't realized the bartender approached you or that he was talking to you.

"Hello?" he whistled waving his hand slightly in front of you, "you're not deaf are you? Cause if you are then you're totally making me feel like an asshole right now."

"Huh?" snapping out of the pity party going on in your head you looked up at the bartender. He was a tall, well built man with dark blonde hair and green eye. He looked stupidly handsome and you couldn't help but stare. He tossed the towel in his hands over his shoulder as he raised an eyebrow at you. You coughed wishing you could sink into the floor and disappear out of embarrassment, "Sorry?"

"What can I get ya?" He repeated with a kind but snarky smile. He totally noticed you gawking at him that _asshole_.

Well Nat left you hanging but you were already here so why not, "Whisky neat cheapest you got."

With a bit of flare he tossed your glass into the air catching beforing setting it on the counter to pour your drink, "Here you are," He slides the glass over to you with a charming smile, "enjoy."

_Show off_.

You gave him a pressed smile and lifted the glass in thanks as he went to take care of a new customer. Taking a sip you looked down at your phone unlocking it to Natasha message.

_No worries. Call me when you can. xx_

You sent her a quick reply just so she knew you weren't mad, disappointed sure but not mad, you knew how seriously she took her work. You wish you felt the same honestly, but this past week at work had you reconsidering what you actually wanted from your job. Sure it paid well enough and you had been there long enough to be on the company's insurance plan, but that was about it. You landed that editing job straight out of college and you were so proud of that for so long. Maybe your pride had hidden what you really wanted to achieve.

"So what's your story?"

Pulled from your thoughts you tighten your grip on your phone and looked up to see the bartender had made his way back towards your end of the bar where you sat alone.

"Excuse me?" You asked confused.

"What's your story?" He asks again, "What brings someone like you to The Milano alone on a friday night?"

"I'm sorry, someone like me?"

"No offense ma'am but you don't exactly fit the demographic of this bar," he shrugged as you both took a glance around at the other patrons of the establishment. You found he was not wrong. Most of the people looked like they were criminals. Covered in scars and tattoos with permanent scowls on their faces.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Taking another sip of your drink, "I think I fit in perfectly here."

He snorted, "Right. I guess you are just as brooding as the rest of these chumps."

"What is that supposed to mean?" you scoffed offended.

"Walking in here with a look on your face that says "I'm thinking about murder" and sitting all by yourself nursing a whisky," He explains then nods to himself, "No you're absolutely right you fit right in."

"Huh," you breathed loosening your phone from your grip and set it down next to your glass. You processed his words for a moment, it makes you wonder if he was checking you out when you first arrived, looking up at him he seemed to be doing that. His head slightly tilted and eyes slightly darkened as his eyes traced your face. Biting your lip you asked, "I really look like I'm thinking about murder?"

"You telling me you're not?"

"No, but to be fair I have been tossing around the idea of some light arson so that could be what you're picking up."

"Arson?" His eyebrow cocked up intrigued, "alright now you've got my attention. Let's hear all about this."

You snorted as if you hadn't already had his attention, "You really want to stand here and talk to me?"

"Well if I'm being honest this place is a little slow tonight and unless a bachelorette party comes stumbling through those doors you're the most interesting person I can be talking to right now," He explains.

You laughed and shook your head, "Dunno, that guy seems pretty interesting," You nodded your head to only other guy actually sitting all the way at the other end of the bar. He was hunched over in his seat picking at the label on his beer as he intensely read the subtitles of the movie playing on one of the tv on the wall, "maybe you should find out what his story is."

"Nah that's just Kraglin I've known him forever," He explained playing with the towel in his hand, "You however mentioned arson and I would like to hear all about it. What do you want to set on fire the most?"

Rolling your eyes you decided to play along, "Do I have to pick just one thing?"

He gasped, "A serial arsonist. This just keeps getting better. Let's start with the one thing you want to burn the most. Like if you could set this fire right now what would it be?"

"Okay," you let out a long breath and thought it over. What to burn first, "Probably my bosses office - wait no, my ex."

"Work trouble and love trouble? That's a nasty duo."

"Yeah well my boyfriend dumped me for a job overseas. He's going to be some regional manager for whatever doing whatever in Turkey. He didn't want me to move with him so he just ended things," you explained bitterly.

"How long were you guys together?"

"Little over a year."

"Geeze," He hisses in sympathy, "Did you guys even talk about it?"

"_Nope_," you said popping the p, "He just decided for me that I wasn't going to move with him."

"Would you?"

"If he asked me?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah I think I would have. We were together for so long I thought we were good. If he asked me I probably wouldn't have given it a second thought," you answered hating yourself slightly for all the time wasted on him.

"What about if he walked into this bar right now and asked you?" He asked.

"I'd kick him straight in the nuts," you immediately answered.

"I don't think I like how quick that response was," He grimaced, "Yikes. Now what about your boss?"

"Well," you sighed, "I usually don't have any issues at work but recently I was up for a promotion and he told me that the job was basically mine they just had to do other interviews so that the higher ups didn't think it was favoritism or whatever."

"What do you do?"

"I'm an editor for an online news outlet. Been there for like 3 years now."

He nodded and let you continue.

"So they had a couple of interviews and decided to give the job to one of those guys and _not_ me. I asked my boss why and he said that this guy was much more qualified for the position and he figured I wouldn't care so much anyways," you finished feeling the same bitterness that you felt when you had left your bosses office after being turned down from the promotion.

"That's shitty," He sighed, "What a dick man."

"Tell me about it," you rolled your eyes taking a drink.

"Ay Pete, hand me another beer would ya," Kraglin from the other end of the bar interrupted waving his now empty bottle toward the bartender, _Pete_ you guess.

"So that's what brought you here?" He asked cracking a fresh beer open and sliding it down the bar towards Kraglin not breaking the flow of his conversation with you, "A deadbeat ex and a shithead employer?"

"I was actually meeting up with a friend," you explained watching Kraglin nearly tip over the new beer over but saving it last minute, "but she canceled last minute because of work."

"You want to set her office on fire too?" Pete asked preparing himself for another story.

You chuckled, "No, god no. She's a detective usually when she gets called in like this there is usually a dead guy."

"Oh," he paused, "well shit. Better be careful with all this crime you're about to commit. Don't worry I wont tell."

"Gee thanks stranger," you teased causing him to laugh.

"It's Peter actually. Peter Quill owner of this fine establishment," He declared gesturing around the bar.

"Fine establishment?" You questioned, "Weren't you the one saying this place was running _slow_ on a _friday_ night?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Peter gasped in mock offense, "Is the not New York, the city that _always_ sleeps?"

"Not sure that's how it goes Pete," You shook your head sympathetically.

"Pretty sure that's exactly how it goes."

"Whatever you say man. I'm (Y/N) by the way. (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," you smiled, "Now you've got a name to give the cops when you go to snitch on me."

"Okay first of all, I would _never_ snitch. Have you seen the people in this bar? They would eat me alive if I was some kind of snitch. Secondly, I am one hundred percent sure that's a fake name now, but I'll call you (Y/N) anyways," dramatically he put air quotes around your name when he spoke.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're dramatic as hell Pete?" You asked with a smile.

"No not even once," he frowned, "alright maybe a couple of times, but that's not the point."

"And what's the point?"

"I feel for you man," He said sincerely, "getting dumped fucking sucks and then not getting a dream job on top of that? It's rough."

"Well I wouldn't call it a dream job," you said thinking it over, "Just a different job. Rising through the ranks. Getting better pay. Got any pretzels?"

"What's your dream job then?" He asked reached over for a bowl of pretzels on the bar handing them to you.

You thought over his question for a minute while snacking on a pretzel. What was your dream job? You were an english major for a reason, because your passion growing up was writing. You used to write all the time what happened? This job that's what happened.

You sighed knowing exactly what your dream job was but also knowing that it's nearly impossible to get where you want to be.

"(Y/N)? Did I lose you?" Peter questioned and you looked up to meet his gaze.

"Sorry, no, just thinking it over," you apologized.

"And?"

"What?"

He sighed exasperated, "what's the dream job haunting your dreams?"

You rolled your eyes, "I guess I've always wanted to be a writer. And not some shitty news writer. Like my own stories. Put my own thoughts and opinions on paper and see who picks it up you know?"

"So what's stopping you?" Peter blinks watching your face carefully.

Squirming under his gaze you suddenly felt the pressure, "Me I guess. I don't know where to start or if I'm any good. I'm just paralyzed by my own fear of failure and it makes me want to stay where I am and just blend in for the rest of my life. Always having opportunities placed in front of me but never getting to experience them."

"That is a load of bullshit," he scoffed.

"_Excuse me_?"

"You heard me. I think that is all a bunch of bullshit," He repeated a little harshly.

"And what gives you the right to say that? You barely even know me!" you jumped feeling overwhelmed by his confrontation.

"Sure I do your ex is a douche, your best friend is a cop and your name is probably not (Y/N)," He shrugged, "That's pretty much everything."

Baffled you shook your head, "I don't really think it is."

"Well," He started placing his hands on the edge of the bar leaning forward, "It's plenty enough for me to know that you're going to be miserable if you keep doing what you're doing because guess what, you already are."

"I'm _not_ miserable," You interrupted, "I'm just having a bad week!"

"Who is the bartender here and who is the girl drinking by herself?"

You refused to answer.

Smugly he continued, "This is my job honey, I know people, even when they don't want me to. And right now I know that you are stuck not because you're afraid of failing. You're afraid of wasting your time and you wont accept that you already have. You wasted a year with some dickwad who didn't care enough to get your opinion on your relationship together. You've wasted your time working for some assholes that don't recognize your desire to achieve more. It's time to pull your head out of your ass and take something that you want."

You hated it. You hated every single word that left his mouth. You hated the way he said it. You hated how it sounded. Mostly you hated that it was all true.

"What the fuck dude?" You huffed feeling out of breath for him. Peter was proving to be extremely long winded.

"Am I wrong?"

"Well no, obviously, but can't you just let a girl wallow in self pity for an evening?" you question, "Geeze."

He rolled his eyes standing up straight again, "You're way too pretty for that sweetheart."

"Great. Good to know. Next time I just want to drink and feel sad I'll just stay at home then," you nodded to yourself looking at the remainder of your drink in your glass.

"Sorry didn't mean to overstep my boundaries, "He sighed, "but this bar is my life, even though some of us here are unimpressed by that," he shot you a cocky wink, "and if someone hadn't told me to get my head out of my ass and do something I love then we wouldn't be here today."

"And who was that?"

"Well my mom always told me to do what I love but after she passed away it was my foster dad that was always telling me to get my head out of my ass," He explained.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Not it was for good reason," He said, "I was a shithead."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "was", "I meant about your mom passing. I'm sorry to hear that. My mom passed away too when I was younger."

His lips pressed into a line and he nodded looking at the surface of the bar, "It sucks."

You nodded in agreement settling into a silence. Loss was something you both seemed all too familiar with. You had noticed that he had said foster dad and not his dad but you didn't want to bring up two intrusive topics in a row. Things felt a little too personal and that's saying a lot seeing as you just told a random stranger all your most recent problems. It's clearly something he's used to him being a bartender and all. People must come in here and bare their souls to him all the time.

The sound of your cell phone buzzing made both of you jump. You picked it up to see Natasha picture flashing across the screen. A wave of confusion and mild panic hit you.

"Sorry hang on," you told Peter and answered her call never knowing when it could be an emergency, "hey what's up?"

Through the phone all you hear is her aggravated sigh, "Just got finished dealing with a bunch of teenagers who thought it would be funny to prank call some detectives about fake homicide. They didn't even use burners to hide their identities or anything but were oh so shocked that they got caught."

"That awful. What's going to happen to those kids?" you asked biting your lip listening to your friend.

"Don't know probably community service. I've been dealing with hysterical parents for the last hour. They've got court dates and the judge will decide the rest," she sighed through the phone, "In the meantime I am free again and really want some extra cheesy pizza from Romeo's, want to come over and yell at each other?"

"Wow," you replied, "you really know a way to girls heart don't you."

"What can I say? I'm a gifted individual now come on over and I can show you more of my talents," She teased.

"You gotta stop it with the dirty talk babe I'm in public," you said causing Peter to laugh.

"Where are you?" Natasha dropped the teasing tone instantly curious, "Is that a guy?"

"The Milano," you chose to only answer her first question.

"Seriously? You still went?"

"I was already here when you bailed," you explained, "figured I'm already out might as well get what I came for."

"Is that place any good? I know we've been meaning to check it out and tonight would have been that night if not for, you know, _teenagers_," the bitterness of her tone did not go unnoticed.

"Eh, it's alright," your unimpressed tone was purely for Peter listening to just one side of this conversation, "It's kind of dirty but they've got pretzels."

You grinned as you earned a glare from Peter.

"Hot guy I hear ya," Natasha murmured understanding the context of a situation she wasn't even a part of, "tell me scale of one to ten where is he?"

"Eh, maybe like a three," you replied loving the baffled looks you were getting from Peter seeing as he thought you were still talking about his bar.

"Shit really?" reading way more into your reply than you had intended, "look if you need to bail in order to get some I will not blame you."

"Nah it's not like that."

"Oh really?" she questioned, "or are you just saying that because he's standing right in front of you and you too scared to admit you want to jump on him and ride him till sunrise?"

If not for the little bit of alcohol in your system you would probably turn beat red hearing your friend say this while you stare directly at the man in question. You bit your lip considering it, "No I'm pretty sure it's just because you enticed me pizza and now I'm going to hold you to that."

Natasha laughed, "Alright I'll order it now see you in a bit."

"See you," you smiled and hung up the phone.

"Someone have a hot date?" Peter asked sounding slightly disappointed.

"Yeah sorry to leave you like this," you grabbed your wallet out of your purse only to look up and see his pout, "really? Pouting? Is that how you get all of your regulars?"

"It worked on Kraglin," He shrugged dropping the pout.

"Sorry I'm just not that kind of girl," you took out some cash and paid for your drink, "the only way to keep me around is food and sorry but pizza trumps pretzels."

He gasped in fake disbelief.

"I know. I'm sorry but I make the rules and that's just how this one goes," you shrugged and got out of you seat. For the first time all week you finally felt yourself settle into a good mood. It made you feel lighter. You smiled up at Peter, "Thanks for the talk. I really needed it."

"Anytime," He smiled softly, "You'll know where I'll be."

With that you left and headed toward Natasha place anxiously anticipating some pizza.


	2. Chapter 2

You sighed sitting in one of your favorite coffee shops waiting for Natasha to show up. You were both on your lunch breaks and decided to meet up for a chance to hang out.

It's been a week since you dumped your problems on the bartender at The Milano and while that night you were filled with hope and motivation not much has really changed. You were shocked you haven't walked out on your crappy job because ever since not getting promoted everyone around the office has been acting like you're incompetent. They'll praise the new guy over the tiniest things which is annoying as all hell.

* * *

You did however have a small stroke of luck. While sifting through your morning emails and nursing your third cup of coffee you had an idea. A story idea. And one that stuck with you too. You abandoned your emails immediately and opened a text document and threw everything in your head into the document like vicious word vomit. And all week you've been spending your free time piecing together an outline. Your dining room table was a disaster covered with notebooks and random slips of paper but you felt confident that this mess was going somewhere. Just not somewhere fast enough.

So now you're just trying to find some sort of escape route at work. You wanted out asap but you also needed rent and food, so you decided against just up and quitting. You were also thinking about reaching out and finding a new editing job somewhere else, but your search has come up empty so far.

You were also feeling incredibly lonely and bitterly heartbroken. The apartment you lived in just didn't feel the same after your ex moved out and you felt that same ache that you normally did after a break up. Which is usually when you end up jumping into a new relationship without thinking. It was hard for you to admit to yourself but ever since high school you never really stayed single for long. Always jumping from one commitment to the next like some sort of addict. So now you've been single for nearly three weeks and that similar itch has overtaken you.

"Sorry I'm late," Natasha was suddenly next to you breaking you out of your thoughts suddenly like a bucket of ice water was just dumped on you, "you would not believe the line I just had to deal with. People are fucking idiots."

She ranted without even acknowledging that she scared the shit out of you.

"I hope you don't mind burritos with your coffee," she continued, "but I've wanted a burrito all damn morning thanks to Clint so here we are."

She tossed two brown paper bags onto the table in front of you and she settled into her seat. You slid her the coffee you bought for her and she gratefully took a drink. You each grabbed a bag and dove into your meals setting into a comfortable silence as you ate.

"So how's work today?" Natasha asked breaking the silence after a while.

"Oh it's _great_," you replied sarcastically, "the new guy figured out the copy machine all by himself today. Pretty sure the gold statue of him will be finished by the end of the day."

She winced, "well at least the good news is it's Friday. So you'll have two whole days to yourself where you don't have to look at him."

"Yeah that's true," you sighed, "you want to get really wasted tonight?"

"I can't tonight," she replied awkwardly biting her lip.

"Something going on at work?" You raised an eyebrow watching mild panic cross your friends face.

"No, no it's not work," her hand grabbed her coffee to fiddle with, "Bucky just wants to go out tonight just the two of us."

"Okay you're aware I know who Bucky is right?" You questioned raising an eyebrow at her, "He's been your boyfriend for a while now. I've met him. We're all friends. Why are you acting weird about this?"

She sighed, "It's just… been a little weird talking boyfriends right now I didn't want to bring it up."

"So you were just going to pretend Bucky didn't exist for my sake?" you watched her bite her lip looking a little ashamed.

"Maybe?"

You sniffled feeling touched, "you know I love you right."

"Man shut the hell up," she rolled her eyes, "look, I'm just saying, I've seen you after bad breakups and I didn't want to make things awkward."

"No offense but pretending a whole ass person doesn't exist kind of make this awkward," you said, "and, for the record, I'm fine. Sure getting dumped out of the blue really sucks, especially when you think things are really good, but he made his choice and there is no going back. So I'm gonna focus on me for a little bit. I need to sort some things out for myself before I decided to start dating again."

"You're acting strangely out of character you know," she said with a faint smile on her lips, "but I kind of like it."

"Please don't hide Bucky from me okay?" you kindly asked, "He's not the boogeyman okay I'm not afraid of him anymore."

Natasha snorted into her coffee before taking a drink.

"At least promise me when you do start dating again it's not going to be some deadbeat again," She said setting down her coffee cup giving you a stern look.

"If I knew ahead of time that the guy was going to be a deadbeat why would I date him?" you questioned.

She shrugged, "Because he's cute and you can never stay single long."

"That's not going to happen this time because my life is a mess right now why burden someone else with that bullshit," you sighed, "No matter how cute he is.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad," She said.

"No but for the first time in my life I think I just want to deal with my shit by myself you know," you shrugged.

"Well no matter what you know you're not in this alone," She replied.

"You're a total sap," you shook your head teasing your friend, "look what love has done to you. I can't wait to tell Bucky about this."

"Watch it," She warned.

Later that night you were at your apartment staring at the mess that was your dining table. It was a scattered mess as you were working on some outlines but you had hit a wall for the evening. You felt it. No matter how hard you tried to get anywhere you kept spacing out. Sighing you walked away from the table. There is no point forcing it so might as well clear your head.

Flopping onto your couch you didn't even bother with the TV so you sat there in silence staring up at your ceiling. You stared for what felt like an eternity but in reality, as you checked your phone for the time and it read 7:30, it was only a couple of minute.

You couldn't just sit in your house doing nothing all evening, as much as you wanted to work you knew it wouldn't happen. So you got up grabbing your jacket and purse, stopping to fix your hair, and left your apartment and just walked. You walked wherever your feet wanted to go and as you walked down the sidewalk you thought through your options, you could get some food, maybe do some grocery shopping, call a friend to hang out. But you didn't do any of those things because before you knew it you were standing outside a now familiar bar.

The Milano.

Might as well, you thought staring up at the bar sign and walked on in.

The place was a little more filled than it was last week and you saw a couple of familiar faces from the last time. One of those being Kraglin who was standing at a table near the bar with a beer in hand talking to a couple of people you didn't know. He saw you walk in and gave you a kind nod causing the people with him to look your way. One older and taller with a red mo-hawk, a graying beard, scars and a mean look on his face. The other was a shorter, bald, muscular man who had both of his arms covered in red tattoos.

Putting on a friendly face you nodded in return to Kraglin as you made your way to the empty end of the bar. You noticed Peter was there behind the bar, but he was having a heated conversation with a small girl sitting on a stool in front of him. You were going to mind your own business and wait to get a drink but you overheard Peter say, "I don't care how many times we have this conversation I will never understand why Jigglypuff is in smash."

Given both of their serious expressions you were a little shocked that they were talking about a video game.

"Says the guy who only ever plays as star fox," the girl in front of him sneered, "We get it Peter you want to be a spaceman, stop shitting on my favorite characters."

"I'm not shitting on them, I'm just saying, you already have kirby bringing in another round pink character is just there to confuse people," Peter defended throwing his arms up in defense.

You leaned against counter and watched the two taking in this girls appearance while the two continued their argument. She was sitting cross legged on the stool and wore a large dark green sweater and some leggings. Her black hair was straight and fell just past her shoulders.

"You know what sis I give up," Peter threw his hands up again this time taking a dramatic step back, "If you want to attack pacman this way, that's your choice. You're wrong but it's your choice to be wrong."

Shaking her head she smacked her hands against the counter, "It's like you're not even listening to me!"

You grinned adamantly watching the two.

"Well I'm not anymore so have fun beating classic mode without me." Despite arguing with this girl he still refilled her drink. Dropping the drink on the counter you finally caught Peters attention.

Leaning against the bar grinning over the argument that just took place, "Don't look at me I'm a pikachu girl all the way."

"Somebody gets it," The girl rejoiced and threw her hands up in praise.

"Didn't expect to see you again," Peter said ignoring the girl.

"Yeah well where else do I have to be on a Friday night?" You joked.

"Ouch," Peter hissed, "that hurts you know. What can I get for you? Having another one of those pity parties tonight?"

"Rude but fair," you shrugged and asked for a beer.

"Bottle or tap?" Peter asked then nodded to the girl he was arguing with, "This is Mantis by the way I'm not speaking to her anymore so if you could let her know that'd be great."

"Bottle is fine," you replied then smiled towards Mantis, "Nice to meet you I'm (Y/N)."

Peter grabbed you a beer and opened it sliding it to you.

"Nice to meet you," Mantis smiles, "I'm Peter's sister and apologize in advance for any of his behavior."

Confused because Peter and Mantis looked nothing alike you nodded and raised your eyebrow at Peter for confirmation on what you were just told.

"We grew up in the same foster family together," He shrugged, "technically family."

"Isn't he just the sweetest?" Mantis gushed dropping her legs down from the stool she was perched on, "I feel the love Petey."

He scowled at his sister as she walked away joining Kraglin and the other two men from before.

"I like her," you grinned sitting in the stool you've been standing next to and earning a scowl of your own, "oh come on you can't really be that upset over some video game."

Peter sighed scratching at his scruff, "I'm not it's just other stuff really."

You took a swig of your beer watching Peter. He was just as handsome as you remembered. Tall and beautiful filling out that sweater nicely on the outside he looked perfectly fine, but perhaps focusing a little more on his eyes he seemed tired. Something was clearly bothering him.

Taking a deep breath you asked, "So what's your story?"

He raised an eyebrow at you giving you a looked that just screamed, _seriously?_

"What? It's only fair," you shrugged fixing him with a mischievous look, "Tell me Peter, would you like to commit arson tonight?"

Shaking his head he let out a long sigh, "You know what I think I just might."

"I'm all ears and no judgement," you took another swig of your beer leaning your arms against the bar.

"Similar to you I was dumped recently," Peter admitted, "though I wouldn't really say we were dating in the first place it was more of a long term booty call, but we've lived together for a while now. We've been fighting a lot recently and this morning she officially moved out for good."

"I'm sorry to hear that," you frowned and found yourself echoing him from last week, "Getting dumped fucking sucks."

He nodded solemnly, "tell me about it."

You were both silent for a moment.

"Well you seem happier than last week," Peter says busying himself with cleaning a small area of his work space. He seemed a little fidgety from talking about his problems so he was looking to change the subject.

"I am," you shrugged, "well trying to be. I started writing finally but I'm still at that shitty job constantly listening to my bosses praise this new guy. Who, by the way, is a fucking moron."

"Ugh, why would you stay?" Peter questioned with a look of disgust.

"I've got bills to pay man. I hate my job but I would really hate being homeless okay," you defended.

"Okay fair," Peter said, "but at least you're moving forward."

"At a snail's pace but I'm okay with that," you shrug, "too much shit has happened recently I want some peace and quiet."

At that moment a certain redhead stormed into the bar and made a beeline towards you. Seeing Natasha startled you mostly because she was supposed to be on a date with her boyfriend.

"What-"

"You have to stop him," she cuts you off immediately, "he won't listen to me so it has to be you. Put a stop to this."

"What on _earth_ are you talking about," feeling completely jarred by the situation.

"James," she verified, "you have to stop him."

Raising an eyebrow you asked, "are you asking me to murder him? Because sure okay just don't arrest me for it."

"Thanks (Y/N)," Bucky, who had followed Natasha into the bar and was standing just beside her, said.

"No hard feelings it's kind of a best friend thing. She asks. I murder," you shrugged.

"Who are you going to murder?" Mantis, who made her way back to the bar for a refill, asks overhearing your conversation.

"This guy apparently," you gesture towards Bucky, "wanna help?"

Mantis grins but before she can answer Natasha cuts you both off.

"No I'm not asking you to murder him," she fixed him with a hard stare, "yet. I'm asking you to knock some sense into him because he wont listen to me."

"About what?"

"He wants to get a cat."

"Oh no," you huff in a unconvincing rage, "the bastard."

Natasha glares at you, "don't patronize me."

"I'm being completely serious. He should be hanged for his crimes."

"Okay I understand you don't want a cat tasha, but look at this little guy," from under his jacket Bucky reveals that he's holding a small kitten that fits perfectly in his hand. The little thing is all black with hazel eyes that squeeze shut in content when Bucky pets under their chin.

"Oh my God you are so precious," you squeal reaching out to gently run your finger on the cats head.

Natasha huffs annoyed.

Peter clears his throat, "uh pretty sure the sign outside says no animals in the bar."

"But you're allowed in?" Mantis questions Peter, "that doesn't seem right."

"You can't seriously be mad about this little thing just look at the little face," you say to Natasha.

"We don't have the time for some animal. That thing is just going to destroy the apartment," Natasha argues.

"Babe you might be exaggerating just a bit were only gone during the day, for the most part, I think we can handle one cat," Bucky reasons. You had to agree sure work for Natasha got in the way but there's always Bucky to be there to take care of the small thing.

"I know were like best friends and all Nat but I have to side with Bucky on this one," you winced preparing for the incoming rage.

"Then you take the damn thing," she spat getting mad that no one would listen to her.

"I can't my building has strict rules because my landlord is deathly allergic to cats," because this isn't the first time you wanted a cat but being stuck on your lease with a decently priced apartment in New York you were always unable to have one.

"So move!"

"I can't afford that! Look, just give the little guy a test run and if it doesn't work out I'll help you guys find him a new home okay?" you reasoned.

"Fine," she huffs and looks at Bucky, "Don't expect this to work out."

"I love you too Nat."


	3. Chapter 3

It was sunny outside, a little on the cold side but still sunny. You found yourself in a coffee shop that you frequented often mostly because it had free wifi and was close to your apartment so you didn't have to take a cab. Today you just needed to get out because your apartment just didn't feel much like home after your breakup. There was just too much in there that reminded you of your ex. Instead of doing something about it you decided to leave for the day and get some writing done. It seems like the bad vibes you've gotten from your apartment has inspired a writing streak and who were you to waste it.

Your phone vibrated on the table next to you. It was a text from Natasha asking where you were.

You texted her back and promptly set back down your phone to look over some notes from your notebook.

"(Y/N)?" you looked up at the sound of your name and much to your surprise you saw Peter standing before you cup of coffee in hand.

It was shocking to see him in such a different setting. It was almost like meeting him for the first time. You saw clearly in broad daylight just how attractive this man was, his facial hair was scruffier than ever and he donned a well fitted dark red leather jacket.

"Peter," you said finally acknowledging him instead of just staring at him.

"I see you're out here cheating on the Milano. She's gonna be real crush by this," He said.

"Peter it's just past noon."

"And?"

Rolling your eyes you decided to return the teasing, "I didn't realize you ever left from behind the bar. Thought you were trapped there forever."

"Alright that's rude," He joked then slid onto the stool next to yours his arm brushing against yours, "Whatcha working on there?"

"My book."

"Oh really?" His eyebrow cocks up and he leans in to take a peek at your notebook that you quickly close in a slight panic, "What? Don't I get a sneak peak?"

"What makes you so special?" you scoff.

"Am I not the person to give you the inspiration to throw caution to the wind and follow your dreams? I feel like I deserve some credit to whatever story you've got cooking up here," He teases and you look up at him only to notice you're both entire too close. His face is just inches from yours.

Your eyes for a moment drift towards his lips it would be all too easy to just lean in and kiss him. Before your mind wanders to all the thing you would like to do to the man sitting before you, you quickly snap yourself out of your thoughts. Clearing your throat you sit up and promptly a little away from Peter hoping he can't notice just how read your face is right now, "uh, yeah, I guess you're right about that. Sorry sharing my writing has always been a little difficult for me."

"Well you're gonna have to rip that bandaid off eventually. You see there's this rumor that when you publish a book there is a small chance that people will actually read it," he kindly informs you. You roll your eyes trying not to read too much into the red tint on his face as well.

"No shit, I always figure once it's out of my hands and into a publishers I won't have to worry about it," you explain but return to your notebook anyways flipping it open slowly to the beginning of your outlines, "Fine you can take a peak but good luck reading that my handwriting it's atrocious."

Like a giddy school child he grabs the notebook stopping instantly when he looks at the first page you had it turned to, "you write like this? That can't be true. This looks like a blind doctor threw their pen at this notebook and then threw it down some stairs."

"Hey, don't read it if you're going to me mean." He had a vague point, your handwriting was terrible but there was no need to be so dramatic about it.

"Sorry. Sorry."

You rolled your eyes but he continued on reading anyways, or trying to. Nervously you bit your lip watching him read the summary of your outline.

"How on earth am I supposed to read if you're watching me?" his eyes don't even leave your notebook but he can sense your stares.

"How am I supposed to tell if you like it or not?" you teased back.

"Close your eyes I'll tell you when I'm done."

Snorting loudly you couldn't help but commenting, "that's what every girl wants to hear."

"Keep it up and I'm going to write mean comments about you on the internet when you publish it," He said trying to sound mad but failing. You pointedly looked away from him to let him decipher your notes in peace. When he finished he threw down your notebook, "I like it. At least the stuff I could piece together."

"Yeah I get a little chaotic writing my thoughts down on paper. It makes sense to me most of the time," You shrug closing your notebook once again, "Thank god for technology I guess. Otherwise I'd be screwed."

"Yeah thank god for that," he joked and leaned onto the table nursing his coffee, "what are you doing writing here anyways? Just leaning into the coffee shop writer trope?"

"There's just a bunch of shit I need to clean out back at my place and I didn't feel like cleaning today so I just left for a bit," you explain.

"Ah, procrastinator, I get it," He nods.

"Sort of," you sigh, "It's just a bunch of my ex's stuff. Like I'm over it and he's completely dead to me, except I'm not because I see all of his stuff and it's like my heart just breaks all over again. I just want this part to be over with you know."

Peter nods fiddling with his to-go cup, "I definitely get that."

You give Peter a small sad smile remembering that you're both hurting in similar ways.

"How are you doing?" you carefully ask.

He frowns and his eyebrows furrow and he thinks over your question. Slowly he answers, "I'm alright. I don't always feel like myself but I really should have seen this coming. Guess that kind of just pisses me off sometimes."

"Sometimes things are out of our control. There's no use beating ourselves up about it, but we'll probably do it anyways."

"Enough pity party," Peter declares waving his hand, "How does one go about publishing a book?"

"Well there's this rumor you see that you have to actually write one. That's like the first step," You explain. Shocked Peter gasps nods along, "Then I don't know."

Peter laughed.

"Well that's not entirely true. I reached out to an old college friend who got into publishing and he said he might be able to help me out."

"And just like that you're one more step closer to quitting that shitty job," Peter grins genuinely happy for you.

"Yeah well, I don't think I'm going to be a full time writer so I sent out some resumes to find a job. Maybe a new editing job. You know so I can eat and junk."

Looking up from your conversation you spotted Natasha as soon as she made her entrance. From the corner of your eye you see Peter follow your gaze. She smiles once she sees you and her smile widens when she sees who your currently with.

"Isn't that your friend?" Peter asks.

You nod, "Forgot she texted me."

"Well isn't this a surprise," she says approaching your table, "you didn't tell me you were hanging out with someone."

She was terrible at being subtle when she wanted to, mostly when it was at your expense. You glare at her.

"You didn't ask and we just ran into each other," you explain of course she would act like this. Natasha gets the most joy when she's embarrassing the shit out of you.

She keeps a shit eating grin plastered on her face, "oh well isn't that nice. If you guys are busy though I can be on my way."

Awkwardly Peter speaks up, bless his soul the poor guy, "I actually have to make it back to the bar soon. I'm hoping my delivery guy is actually on time today."

"That's a shame," still as cheerful as she's been this entire time she sits down across from you.

You rolled your eyes at Natasha and decided you should properly introduce them. Well in whatever way this situation could be deemed proper, "Well to properly introduce the two of you Natasha this is Peter and Peter this is Natasha. Yes she is always an asshole."

"Alright that's a little mean."

"It's nice to meet you properly," Peter said politely with a hint of mischief, "How's the cat?"

Natasha's smile dropped instantly and she glared at Peter, "I will murder you."

The cat, in fact, was going well and much to Natasha despair she and the cat bonded and were practically inseparable. She named her Liho and that cat loved the shit out of Natasha.

Laughing Peter said, "I gotta run. See y'all soon."

And with a cheeky wink he got up and left the coffee shop. You watched as he left before turning to your best friend who was giving you a knowing smirk.

"What?"

"What? I said nothing," Natasha says innocently.

You rolled your eyes, "Just spit it out already."

"You guys are just so into each other why aren't you doing something about this?" she says and before you can reply she continues, "and I know, I know, you said you're not ready for dating or whatever but you guys are just so obvious it hurts."

You sat waiting patiently for her to finish and when she did you asked, "you done?"

She nods with a childish pout on her face.

"Look I'm not ready for dating right now. You know how badly that asshole hurt me and if there is any potential with Peter I don't want to ruin it by jumping in too quickly," you explain.

"I know I'm just impatient," she whined, "I'm sorry I'll keep my lips shut about this from now on, promise."

Rolling your eyes smiling, "I'm sure you will…"


	4. Chapter 4

You couldn't put it off any longer. It had been over three weeks since the breakup. Today was the day you started deep cleaning your apartment and you started my trashing a bunch of stuff you ex had bought as long as you had no essential use for something. To begin you changed into so comfy clothes and turned on some music.

What started as some easy cleaning, like getting rid of old clothes and emptying your apartment of all the junk he left behind, turned into making your apartment look like it had been hit by a natural disaster. Never mind cluttering your dining room table with all of your work that was a normal mess you were used to.

There were piles of books, magazines, cds, movie in both the dvd and old vhs variety, and don't forget books because shit did you have a lot of books scattered all around your place as you removed them from their home. An old beautiful bookshelf that your ex has bought for your birthday last year. It's old dark wood had ornate designs carved on its sides and it was large enough to shelf all your books and still had space for other items and trinkets. You loved this bookshelf very dearly ever since you got it except today while cleaning today you realized just how much you actually hated it.

This was a gift from some ass hole who clearly never cared about you, but you spent so much of your time and effort on him and all this bookshelf did was remind you of him and your time wasted. It made you sick just looking at it. So you decided to get rid of it. Except that was proving to be difficult seeing as it was a very large and heavy bookshelf that, even with everything taken off of it, was extremely difficult for you to move on your own.

You really didn't want to to let this bookshelf win but you could feel a panic attack rising, so frustrated to the point of tears you texted Natasha a 911. Desperately needing help getting rid of this thing.

Just moments after the text sent your phone immediately began ringing as Natasha called you.

"What's wrong? What's going on? Are you okay?" A panicked Natasha rang through your phone as soon as you answered.

"This thing won't get out of my apartment," you sobbed into the phone.

"What? Honey what are you talking about?" Natasha voice was calm but you could hear how worried she was.

"This disgusting ass useless bookshelf," you explained through your tears, "I barely got that thing moved away from the wall and now it's just sitting there mocking me!"

Natasha sighed through the phone, "of course you can't move that thing by yourself it like a million pounds."

"I can't look at this thing anymore," you tilted your head back to blink back more of your already streaming tears, "god I can't even believe I'm freaking out over this stupid thing."

"That's the one dickhead got you right? You have a perfectly valid reason for freaking out over this what he did was terrible and it's perfectly understandable that you're still feeling this way," she reassures you and that helps a little, "but listen honey, I'm tied up at work at the moment. We had a big case come in, so I would come over and help you get rid of the bookshelf but I can't. Really sorry, but I'll send Bucky over okay? He should be able to help."

"I'm sorry for freaking out," you sniffled.

"Do not apologize about this," she quickly assured you, "I'm sorry I can't make it over."

"It's okay," you sniffle.

"But I was serious, I'm sending over Bucky okay? I don't want you to be alone right now. He's on his way."

You nod and immediately feel stupid, "Okay thank you."

Hanging up with Natasha you took some deep breaths to try and put this meltdown at bay before Bucky can show up. You throw your phone in your purse and wipe the tears off your face taking a quick survey of the room. Oh boy, it is a disaster a lot of the stuff you took off the bookshelf was haphazardly thrown about the room so you busy yourself with making neat stacks of your books and things at least to give your living room more walking space.

It doesn't take long for Bucky to get there and you buzz him in.

"Wow," He says once you open your door and let him in, "This is not what I was expecting…"

"I tried straightening up a bit before you got here but there's just too much shit," you sighed closing the door behind him.

"I was actually thinking it was going to be way worse if I'm being honest," He shrugs, "Nat gave me the rundown and said you needed help getting rid of a bookshelf."

"Yeah," You walk up to the large bookshelf that towered over the both of you, "It's got to go."

Bucky let out a low whistle as he gave the bookshelf a look over. You were barely able to move it from its spot against the wall next to your tv stand, "Jesus this thing is huge how did you guys even get it in here."

Rubbing your forehead you thought about it, "I think asshole hired some guys to move it up here. I'm not sure it was here when I got home from work one day and we never had a reason to move it since."

Bucky nods and makes an attempt at moving the bookshelf. He's able to get it maybe a foot further than you did before he has to stop.

"Holy shit okay think you can give me some help?"

This time you nod and get on the other side of the shelf. It barely budges with you both putting in all of your effort.

That overwhelming feeling in the pit of your stomach grows, "I'm never going to be rid of this stupid thing," you kick the side of the bookshelf and sit on your coffee table covering your face as you feel yourself start to cry again.

Bucky clears his throat uncomfortably as he doesn't know how to handle a crying friend very well, "Uh, you got a drill or something? Maybe we can take it apart. Might be easier to move if we can get the shelves out of it."

"No I don't," you miserably say into your hands shaking your head.

"Okay that's fine," He says walking over to you kneeling down in front of you putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, "Tell you what how about I bring over some of my tools in the morning and we'll get this thing out of here then."

You nod keeping your face covered as a sob you were desperately trying to stop erupts from you.

"Hey now," he says softly, "It's alright let it out."

"I hate feeling like this," you mumble.

"I know but you'll get through this. I know you will," his voice is kind as he tries to make you feel better, "this was a bad breakup you just need some time. And you know, sometimes you're going to feel great and like all of this is behind you, but sometimes shit like this is going to happen. That's why you've got Nat and I. We're here when you need us."

You sigh dropping your hands from your face and give Bucky a miserable smile, "Thanks."

"Want to go get drunk?"

"I would like that a lot actually."

"Alright," He stands up offering you a hand that you take to stand up as well, "Let's get out of here. That thing wins the apartment for the night."

You both grab your jackets, you made sure to grab your keys and purse as well, and you left the apartment. Walking outside the first thing that shocked you was how dark it was outside.

"Wait, what the fuck, how late is it?" you ask digging through your purse for your phone as you both walk.

"Nearly ten I think," Bucky answers checking his watch, "Why?"

"Nothing I just didn't realize how late it got. I've just been cleaning all day never occurred to me to look at the time," you say giving up your search and let your bag fall to your side. The two of you head to the Milano where upon entering your greeted with the beginning of Seven Wonders by Fleetwood Mac playing loudly throughout the nearly empty bar. Peter was nowhere to be seen but Mantis and one of the guys you remember seeing the other night, the bald one with his arms covered in red tattoos, were on either end of the bar that they had cleared off so they could play coaster hockey.

Mantis notices you and Bucky when you walk in and she reaches and turns down the music.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Mantis says cheerfully and you give her a smile.

"Who touched the music?!" Peter's voice shouted from a door that was behind the bar, "I told you guys not to touch it!"

"Oh shut up jackass there are actual humans here!" Mantis shouts back, "Ignore him, he's doing inventory. Oh no what happened to you?"

She had taken in your red eyes and puffy cheeks and got worried.

"Oh you know, just the run of the mill Tuesday night meltdown," you shrug and grab a stool from the bar to sit in.

"I got you," Mantis nods and then hops up onto the bar and reaches over to grab some shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey, "so shots?"

"Mantis get off of the bar come on dude," Peter sighs flabbergasted as he appears through the door carrying some boxes behind the bar.

"Well you said I wasn't allowed behind the bar after last time so what did you want me to do?" She innocently asks.

"Stay out of shit," he answers easily, "Hey (Y/N) and James? I think? I'm not entirely sure."

"I've just been calling him the cat smuggler," Mantis snorts lining up the shot glasses and filling them.

"It's Bucky actually," Bucky confirms taking a seat at the bar as well.

"I'm Peter this asshole is Mantis and that other asshole is Drax he likes to pretend he's invisible," Peter nods to Drax who was behind the bar with Peter moving the boxes Peter brought with him.

"You're just jealous Quill," Drax says, his voice is gruff and you find him slightly more intimidating than you did before, "It's nice to meet both of you."

"Grab some beers would ya," Mantis says to Peter, "They're too far away for me to reach."

"What the hell are you doing?" He questions noticing Mantis' set up of shots.

"Drinking with friends," she says like it painfully obvious, "(Y/N) had a meltdown so it's my sworn womanly duty to help her get super drunk so she forgets her problems."

You nod in appreciation to Mantis and raise the shot glass she hands you to hers. The two of you clink and then down their shots. Hissing as the whiskey goes down you set down your shot glass for Mantis to refill.

"Well when you put it like that it makes perfect sense," Peter says sarcastically but gets the beers that Mantis demanded anyways, and everyone passes around drinks until they each have one for themselves.

"Alright so what's the story tonight?" Peter asks leaning against the counter.

You took a deep breath and shared a look with Bucky, "Well I started getting rid of shit in my apartment today, spent all day doing that actually, but then I realized that I had this dumb ass bookshelf just sitting in my living room that just had to go but it's like impossible to move so I may have had several freak outs over it."

"Reinforcements were called but that sucker just won't move without having to take it apart," Bucky confirms nursing a beer.

"What's so wrong with this bookshelf?" Mantis asks.

"Her ex bought it as a birthday gift," Bucky answers.

"It was a nice gift at the time really, but now it's just this big gross chunk of unmovable furniture and I hate it. Looking at it just makes me sick I want it gone," you spat at no one in particular taking a swig of beer to chill out.

"Well I mean we can probably go and help you get rid of this thing," Mantis offers and your heart pangs from her compassion, "Five people is bound to be more help than just two."

"We were just going to grab some tools from Bucky and Nat's place because I don't really have any anymore and get rid of it in the morning," you shrug not really wanting to burden other people with this issue.

"Nonsense Drax has enough muscle to scare that shelf right out of your apartment," Peter says.

"But your bar-"

"I would be leaving with my only two customers," Peter cuts you off and moves to shut off his music, "It's fine this place was dead tonight anyways."

Mantis jumps off the bar and grabs a jacket she had laying on a table, "Grab some beers Peter were still going to need those."

"Looks like we're leaving," You say to Bucky who looks far too amused to object to the situation.

"Looks like it," He grins.

Peter grabs the beers as requested and they all move to leave the bar until Drax speaks up.

"Wait. Hold on," Drax says and then disappears through the door behind the bar. The four of you exchange questioning looks but wait in silence for Drax to return. He does moments later. With two sledgehammers in hand.

"Uh… whoa there, what are you doing Drax?" Mantis questions.

"If we are going to remove this cursed shelves then we must do it properly," He explains gesturing to the sledgehammers he's holding.

"You can't be serious…" You say stunned.

"Unfortunately he's always serious," Peter says and you look over to him wide eyed. He gives you a wink, "You get used to it."

"(Y/N) I don't want to alarm you but you might be making friends with some criminals," Bucky comments jokingly.

"You know what," you say shaking off the situation, "Life is already weird enough this might as well happen."

So you all leave the bar after Peter locks up and head back to your apartment. You were a little shocked that you guys weren't stopped along the way because of how sketchy your little group looked. Either way you all made it and you let everyone into your building, including the hammer wielding Drax.

"Alright fair warning I might have been cleaning all day but this place is a mess," You warn unlocking your door walking in ahead of everyone to get the lights. They all follow you in and you hear Mantis gasp.

"Holy shit that dumb ass had some taste," She immediately went over to the bookshelf to get a better look at the intricate carving along the side, "Are you sure you don't want to sell it? Because I will totally buy this off of you right now."

"No," Drax answered for you, "It must be destroyed."

Mantis pouts looking at the defenseless bookshelf before moving away from it.

"Alright let's move some of this stuff so it doesn't get ruined," Peter says setting the two six packs he brought on you coffee table and rolls up his sleeves. You all take a moment to clear out your living room, moving most of the stuff into the adjoining dining room and kitchen just so you all have enough space.

"I feel like we're prepping to murder somebody," Mantis comments, "Should we lay down some tarps or something?"

"Nah I'll just vacuum later were just killing an inanimate object so there's no blood."

She laughs, "You have a point."

The two of you back away as the three boys move the bookshelf a little more away from the wall so there's no accidental property damage. You and Mantis grab one of the six packs and crack yourselves open a beer each.

"You think your landlord is going to make new rules about not letting strange people with sledgehammers into the building?" She laughs.

"Honestly this kind of feels like his fault for not having that rule to begin with," you say with a shrug.

"Alright this will do," Drax declares then picks up one of the sledgehammers he had left leaning against you living room wall and makes a gesture for you to take it, "You should have the honor of the first swing ma'am."

"Oh…" you gulp taking a drink of your beer before handing it off to Mantis. You walk over to Drax and the bookshelf ignoring Bucky and Peter dramatically taking cover as you take the sledgehammer. It's very heavy and you're shocked you didn't immediately drop it. "Alright let's do this."

Drax steps away to give you some room and you step a little closer to the bookshelf.

Is this really happening right now? You're seriously about to destroy this bookshelf with a sledgehammer? This feels insane. But also, you feel all the things you were feeling earlier. All the heartbreak that your ex had put you through. You loved him. Loved him. You thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. Then he just goes and dumps you for some job opportunity without even talking about it. It was clear that you meant nothing to him but during your relationship he was everything to you.

That anger wells up inside of you and you grip the hammer tight in your hands taking a deep breath before taking a swing sending the head of the hammer straight through the middle shelf breaking it with a satisfying crack.

You let out a shaky laugh setting the sledgehammer down carefully in front of you while Mantis cheers, "That felt really good."

Drax claps a hand on your shoulder like a proud parent, "Let's finish the job."

You spend the rest of the night taking turns at breaking the bookshelf all while drinking, laughing and getting to know each other a little better. By the time the bookshelf is reduced to nothing but slabs of wood and splinters on your living room floor you definitely feel like a weight has been lifted off of you. Things feel better.


	5. Chapter 5

You took a couple of vacation days that you have saved up at work so you can get the rest of your apartment cleaned, also you just needed a break from that place. Luckily they didn't ask any questions when you sent in the request and they just accepted it. That night when you destroyed you bookshelf with Bucky and your new found friends everyone had stayed to make sure the mess was cleaned up but you had left everything else for yourself. After stacking all of your books into against the wall, you found this to be your biggest task, you sort of left everything scattered about wherever you could find a place for it.

You ordered some new shelving online yesterday, the day after destroying the old shelf, so all you had to do was wait for those to come in and you can have a better place for your things.

When you were sitting down with your second cup of coffee that morning re-alphabetizing the books your door buzzer rang.

It couldn't possibly be the stuff you ordered and you weren't expecting anyone to come over at this time so confused you headed over to the com and asked who it was.

"It's Peter uh Quill," Peter's voice awkwardly rang through the small speaker, "Sorry I know it's a little early but I just needed someone to talk to."

"Say no more come on up." You buzzed him in and grabbed a sweater to cover the fact that you were still in your pajamas while you waited for him to make it to your door also grabbing your cup of coffee from where you left it on the floor. You opened it on his first knock and greeted him with a smile, "come on in."

He enters your apartment and he can't help but take a look around before turning to you after you've closed the door, "I'm sorry again. I'm just having a really shitty morning."

"Don't apologize," you waved him off, "I don't mind. You want some coffee? I just made some."

He accepts your offer and follows you into your small kitchen. After getting him situated with a mug you lean against the counter as he fixes himself up some coffee.

"So what's the story this morning?" You ask cupping your warm mug in your hands watching his lips quirk up momentarily.

Peter sighs turning to lean against the counter facing you, "My foster dad and I have just been fighting since last night and it sounds dumb but everyone else I know is just going to either side with him or tell me some "everything is going to be okay" bullshit. And I just couldn't wait for you to stumble into my bar again."

You frown titling your head slightly, "What's going on?"

"He wants me to sign ownership of the bar over to him," he spats angrily.

"What? Why?" this feels a little out of left field despite not really knowing anything about his foster dad, but wasn't he the one to tell Peter to open the place to begin with?

"Because business hasn't been great lately which I get it's mostly my fault," He rubs his neck staring down at the coffee in his hand, "Ever since my ex and I officially split and she stopped showing up at the bar I lost a lot of regulars that just came for her I guess. You could also say that I haven't been the friendliest lately but I'm just trying to get over it you know."

You nod sympathetically, "Yeah I do, but why does he want ownership all of a sudden?"

Peter shrugs, "He just offered to help out at first but then he made it pretty clear that his price for helping is going to be me signing over the bar to him. I just… I can't believe he would do something like this. He was the only person to encourage me to open up that place and just because I'm going through a rough patch he just wants to take it all away!"

Peter huffed looking a little shocked at himself for raising his voice. You didn't mind though, he was mad and rightfully so. Peter has also let you vent numerous times to him since meeting him so the least you could do was let him do the same.

"So he's mad you just won't roll over and give the bar to him?" You ask.

Peter nods.

"Good," you nod mulling over the information given to you, "I think it's good that you're standing your ground."

He shakes his head looking defeated, "I could really use his help though."

"Do you though?" You ask, "I mean sure he's the one who encouraged you to open the bar in the first place, but everything you did was all you. I mean unless you're standing here telling me that the only thing that can keep that place running is your foster dad and your ex then that's just pathetic man. You need to get your head out of your ass and keep hold of what you want. Eventually things will start to feel better and you'll be glad you never gave up that bar. I believe you have it in you to turn things around."

He was silent taking in your every word. You felt a little shocked at how the words just tumbled out of you like that, maybe you were a little harsh. Maybe you should apologize.

"Well shit (Y/N)," Peter sighs and smiles, "You really know how to give me a taste of my own medicine."

You smile and shrug taking a sip of your coffee instantly feeling relieved that he wasn't mad.

"What can I say I'm a woman of many talents."

"I'll say," He chuckles to himself drinking his coffee, "You're right though. I definitely need to own up and get my shit together."

"Baby steps man. Not to worry though I'm always here to speak the truth. Although maybe I should just give you my number so you're not just showing up here at random hours because I'm not always home," you say setting down you coffee mug after taking one last drink.

"I said I was sorry," he says but you wave him off again for it leaving the kitchen to find your phone.

"I said don't worry about it. You just got lucky catching me is all," finding your phone on the mess that is your dining room table you found that Peter had followed you and you both took a seat by the messy table.

"Lucky is definitely the word I would use," he smirks looking over your appearance, pajama shorts cover in kittens and shooting stars, an oversized sweater and mismatched socks.

"It's 8 am and I'm not working today give me a break," You roll your eyes handing him your phone to let him put his contact info in it, "Who does stuff at this hour. Honestly what are you even doing up don't you run a bar?"

"I napped it's how I thrive." still looking smug he nods at the mess on your table, "What is all this?"

"I'm a very chaotic writer," You inform him tapping you hand against the table, "This right now is my book."

"Wow," He chuckles typing in his info, "Well I'm not an expert but how can you get anything done?"

"Well that's the fun part," you explain, "you see, I could keep everything neat and organized but where is the fun in that? Why would I deprive myself of the many panic induced moments of not being able to find something I had just moments ago. Or knowing that I have tucked away about something not being able to find it but being able to find something else and working on a different part of the book."

"So what you're telling me is that you're a psychopath."

"I think just crazy will do it's not that extreme."

He laughs, "got it. Since when are you and Mantis texting?"

You tilt your head as he hands your phone back to you and you pull down your notifications seeing a text from her that must have just been sent, "Oh the other night with the bookshelf. We were drunk and crying over snapchat filters. We were coming up with ideas for some new ones so we exchanged numbers to send more ideas to each other."

"She send a new one?" he asks.

"You didn't read it?" You question coyly as you send his number a quick text so he has yours.

"I just saw her name okay I'm not that invasive."

You laugh shaking your head opening your message from her, "Well apparently she wants a filter that makes lava pour out of your mouth. You know like the rainbow one but lava."

He shakes his head, "Yeah I'm good not looking into what that could possibly mean about her mental state."

"She's probably fine," you say setting your phone down on the table, "So, feeling better?"

Peter sighs, "I mean I'm still mad at him but you're right. I don't need him to fix this. Especially if he just wants to take it away from me."

You grin happy for him, "Great! So you want to go grab some breakfast?"

"Only if you're going like that," He says grinning at your pajamas once again.

"Alright get out I don't want to go anywhere with you now," you shake your head getting up and heading towards your room while he laughs.


End file.
